So You Think You Can Love Me? (Izaya X Reader)

Mistaken

Your POV-

You stiffened. The man was on his phone, presumably texting someone. He entered swiftly, his face still focused on the dancing pixels. The elevator doors began to close, and you swiftly dropped your head, pulling your hood up. The man shut off his phone, looking up only to make sure he was headed to the first floor. You stared at the ground, memorizing the tile floor's dips and curves. 

You felt as if someone was looking at you. You couldn't really describe what it felt like, besides the fact that it felt like someone was staring at you. You knew he was looking at you, trying to place where he knew you from.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met. Are you new here?" Your chest sank, you hadn't exactly expected him to talk to you. You paused out of suprise, then reluctantly nodded your head, "Izaya Orihara," his voice echoed through the empty elevator, "I have the strangest feeling that I know you... Have I done international business with you? I wouldn't be suprised. I mean, I never forget a face- well, no that isn't quite right. See, I can't seem to see your face, so if you would be so kind as to uncloak yourself," he paused to laugh, "you may just help me place you."

You sighed irritably, and looked up towards the floor number; 8. In the sudden action your hood fell. The air around you suddenly stiffened and felt incredibly hot.

"Mm. So that's it," you heard him say. He had the slightest edge to his voice, signaling he recognized you. He sighed, "I suppose you were the one who my assistant was rambling on about. I should have known," you glanced at him, whilst he was already staring at you. 

"Well, Orihara," you sneered, "how about I don't talk to you, and you don't talk to me. Does that sound good? Great! I'm glad we've settled that," the elevator hit the 6 floor.

"Now, while that sounds mightily appealing, I have some questions," he took a step closer to you, "How come there is absolutely no data on you? It's almost as if you don't exist- well I mean obviously you existed on September 17, 2006, but other than that there are no records. I suppose there's that Sakursaki Ohujami-"

Your eyes widened, "What the fuck did you just say?"

"Sakursaki Ohujami?" He smirked devilishly, "Why, do you know him?" The elevator hit the 3 floor.

You stared at him, truly terrified, "No no no no, you shouldn't know him. That's not possible; how is that possible? No, I erased every file, every post, every text, he shouldn't exist. How do-" you wheezed slightly, out of breathe, "How do you know?" your voice grew more shrill, "How do you know?!"

Izaya's smirk broadened, "My my, is the little human flustered? And to think all because of a lollipop that was so carelessly forgotten." 

"No, that post should have been erased-"

"It's called a draft. How careless and clumsy you are," he was clearly amused. The air around you seemingly grew still, and on cue the elevator door slide open. There were 3 people waiting before the elevator, "Now mere human, what did you say your name was?"

"None of your god damned business," you got off the elevator and pushed past the people.

"Feisty," you could hear Izaya saying, bemused.

You sped walk to the front doors and hastily pushed them open, pulling your hood back up and tugging down on the drawstrings tightly. You walked onwards, your purse hitting you with each stride. 

You were utterly both shocked and irritated. You hated that man, Izaya Orihara. You hated him for not running yesterday, you hated him for touching your face. You too hated him for his stupid beliefs, and finding out about your precious Matsuo. You hated him for existing.

You swiftly pulled out your phone, reactivating Matsuo's old Instagram account. You looked up, heading to a park that was all but 60 yards away. You crossed the street and entered upon the park, quickly finding an empty bench and sitting down. 

You looked back down at your phone and signed into his account, clicking over to his page. You made your way to the draft section and clicked the photo of you holding a cherry red lollipop. You remembered when he had taken that picture of you; you both were touring Europe in celebration of your 10 year anniversary. 

You two had begun 'dating' when you were both five- you were now 22. It wasn't serious at first, more of a social standing then a relationship. However, even then you both knew it would become something bigger than anything neither him nor you could even begin to understand.

You sighed. You hadn't wanted him to post the picture because it had only showcased you instead of the both of you. You supposed he saved it out of spite, as he was notorious for being stubborn. You clicked onto the description which was clearly unedited. You curled both of your feet onto the bench and hugged them with one arm, reading the description with your other.

A couple of moments passed before your face grew wet with the inevitable tears that had newly sprung to your eyes. You wiped your face with your sleeve and stared at the screen. You missed him a lot, and knew that this draft was the only thing that still gave proof that he existed. You pushed the delete button, and then took a deep breath, clicking the confirm button. The screen loaded for a second before it returned to his empty home page. 

You then proceeded to re-delete the account, and then deleted the confirmation email. You signed out of your gmail and turned off your phone, watching it abruptly fade to black. You slid your phone back into your pocket and buried your head in your knees, drawing them closer.

A couple minutes passed and you felt a sudden tap on your shoulders, "Go the fuck away Orihara," you mumbled.

"Orihara? No, you must be mistaken," the voice laughed, "Now tell me why such a doll like yourself is curled up on a bench alone."